A cloud shaped like an ibis.
The most beautiful pinto horses I’ve seen,
conferring in a trio.
Silos looming with Stravinsky.
A Siamese kitten rolling in the shade.
A metal band playing across the river.
A house sinking into the riverbed
below a small law office.
Two foxes: one eager, one disdainful.
An old man in a black thong tanning on a side road
above the lake. I thought of him
when I looked at Lear.
Train towns.
Mount Shasta: imagine how it was formed.
Black Butte: imagine how it was formed.
The State of Jefferson.
A lilac farmhouse with cicadas.
The stars above an open theater.
Neon light beside the moon.
Imagine how all these things were formed.
The most beautiful pinto horses I’ve seen,
conferring in a trio.
Silos looming with Stravinsky.
A Siamese kitten rolling in the shade.
A metal band playing across the river.
A house sinking into the riverbed
below a small law office.
Two foxes: one eager, one disdainful.
An old man in a black thong tanning on a side road
above the lake. I thought of him
when I looked at Lear.
Train towns.
Mount Shasta: imagine how it was formed.
Black Butte: imagine how it was formed.
The State of Jefferson.
A lilac farmhouse with cicadas.
The stars above an open theater.
Neon light beside the moon.
Imagine how all these things were formed.
✱✱✱
 Janna Layton lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her poetry and fiction have been published in various literary journals, including The New Yorker, Menacing Hedge, Appalachian Heritage, Zone 3, and Souvenir. She blogs at readingwatchinglookingandstuff.blogspot.com and tweets at @jkbartleby. |
